Puzzle Pieces
by Spense
Summary: Profilers are usually convinced that they know what's going on.  But what is the saying?  "You can't know the forest for the trees?"
1. Chapter 1

Puzzle Pieces

by Spense

Usual disclaimers apply - don't own, don't sue.

Chapter One

Dr. Spencer Reid grimaced as he checked his watch. It was early Tuesday morning following the long Labor Day weekend. He'd spent the long holiday weekend out at Jason Gideon's cabin in the woods of Virginia. Well, not Gideon's anymore. It was Reid's now, and had been for awhile.

After Gideon has so precipitously left the BAU, and the only explanation was a letter addressed to Reid, nobody had heard from him again. Or so they thought. But Reid had had one more piece of correspondence from Gideon. This was in the form of a deed for the land and the cabin that sat on it, which had been legally filed to change ownership to Dr. Spencer Reid, and sent to Reid's own attorney. No letter, no explanation, nothing. Just that Reid now owned property. Property that held strong memories and ghosts.

Reid hadn't told anybody. He hadn't even wanted to think about it for the longest time. It wasn't until he started playing chess again that he decided he'd better come out to see the place, make sure that the caretaker was checking on things, and . . . lay the ghosts to rest. In fact, he found that he had enjoyed it. There were no ghosts, just a quiet retreat.

Now, whenever possible, he came out here, adding personal touches and making the place his. And it was truly his now – not Gideon's. Reid's books, and all his clothes. The simple log furniture he picked out. The stained glass lamps that cast a soft glow. His favorite pictures and books that he'd brought out to the new refuge. Reid had grown to love it for the retreat it was, not for the haunting reminder of Gideon. Gideon no longer haunted the place – it was Reid's living retreat.

He wasn't sure why he didn't tell anybody, but he really didn't feel that he needed to explain. He'd grown a lot as a person in the past years, and although the team didn't seem to get it, others did. His sponsor to Narcotics Anonymous, the head of the FBI, certainly did. And after some concern, he had realized that this was not a retreat for Reid to 'use', but rather a retreat from the tough work they all did.

Needless to say, it had been a great weekend – quiet and revitalizing, but he'd better hustle now, or he'd be late for the briefing and that would not be good. The team still tended to call out the cavalry when he did something out of the ordinary.

Locking up, he hurried down the fieldstone steps, and hopped into his ancient car. If he hurried, he could just make it.

It seemed like everybody was running late this morning. The first day following a three day weekend made this no real surprise, but still. Reid also wasn't used to driving in, unusually he took the metro. But Reid had left way too late from the cabin to drop the car at home, so he'd just have to fight traffic tonight. He generally avoided that at all costs. The metro gave him no stress and lots of time to think. But not today.

The crowd was heavier getting into the building and through security as well. Barney, the long time security guard at the entrance he used didn't even have time to greet people by name the way he normally did. He just processed them through quickly in order to not get too backlogged.

Reid hustled across the lobby and waited with the mob at the elevators. By the time he got on, he was finding the atmosphere odd as well. Everybody seemed subdued. He wasn't sure why, considering they'd had a great, bright, sunny, three day weekend. But then he caught a fragment of quiet conversation from the back of the elevator.

" . . . Who?"

"Don't know. All I know is that we lost an agent this weekend."

"What department?"

"Don't know."

Well, that would account for the mood, Reid thought. The news about losing an agent tended to move with lightening fast accuracy around the building, while the details took awhile to be officially released. If it wasn't in one's own department, the location and name could take awhile.

His stomach tightening, Reid fished out his phone and checked for messages. Surely somebody would have called him if it had been one of their team . . . He noted with relief that there were no messages. Good. It wasn't one of the BAU. But still, the loss of any agent wasn't good.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed stepping on of his floor. Blinking, he realized that the full elevator had moved on, and that his floor was a morgue. There seemed to be nobody moving in the normally busy hallways. There was always support staff moving about, agents hustling from place to place, but instead, the place was empty.

"Huh." Reid looked around bemused, shrugged, and walked into the empty BAU offices. Stopping just inside the door, he looked around, and saw nobody. There were signs of life. The computers were on at both Derek's and Emily's desks, as well as multiple half empty coffee cups, and the lights were on in Hotch's and Rossi's offices, but again, even the support staff was gone. The rest of the office look like a bomb had hit it. More half consumed cups of coffee were on desks, paper and files littered the floor and every desk in sight, and file boxes were open and discarded all over the place. It looked like an emergency had taken place. Why hadn't they called him? He felt like he was in the Twilight Zone.

Looking up, he could see silhouettes of shapes in the BAU conference room. It looked like everybody was there. Humming the Twilight Zone theme under his breath, and still more bemused than worried, Reid headed up the steps to the conference room. The crash of glass breaking behind him made him spin around, his messenger bag bumping his back with the force of his spin.

Darlene, Strauss's assistant was staring at him, her face white. At her feet, a shattered coffee pot. Reid blinked in surprise. He hadn't even heard her come in behind him. Whatever was going on seemed to be important, so he just gave her a tight smile and a half wave and slipped quietly into the BAU room.

The room was absolutely packed with bodies. Far more than was normal for the 10am briefing. This looked like everybody associated with the BAU department. The normal suspects, the BAU team its self, were in their normal places at the table. But ranged around and in every available space, were representatives of other teams, Anderson and the rest of the support staff, all the technical and document analysts that worked with them, and many other familiar faces that supported the team.

Standing on his tiptoes, Reid could just see between the shoulders of what appeared to be two giant security officers. From his limited vantage point, Reid could see Hotch and Erin Strauss at the front. They appeared to be just wrapping up their remarks, as everybody began to gather their notepads, pens, tablet computers and phones.

Reid put his head down, and maneuvered through the chaos of larger bodies with the ease of long practice. Having entered high school at age 12, and college at age 14, and not attaining his full height until many years past that made him a pro at getting where he needed to be, and not getting stomped on doing it.

Knowing that he would have to explain his tardiness, together with the unusual intensity and vibe around the room, Spencer felt the knot in his stomach grow. Bad enough to be late, but something was very clearly wrong. Fighting his way to the table, where the BAU team was still seated, and intently talking, Spencer finally managed to push his was to the group.

"Ah, guys? What's going on?"

The response to his simple question was so dramatic to be almost funny. Garcia spun to look at him, dressed even more flamboyantly than usual (_something had really upset her, Spencer thought absently. Adding color and accessories was Penelope's way of dealing with chaos_), paused for a second, her eyes huge, then screamed.

Reid blinked and stepped back in surprise. The sound was loud, and Garcia's hand was up over her heart in shock, the other covering her mouth, her eyes even bigger than usual as she stared. Reid looked over his shoulder, his heart racing in alarm, wondering what the problem was. Not seeing anything behind him, and more confused than ever, Reid looked tentatively back. Gut reaction was to fade into the woodwork in order to be 'safe', but this was the FBI headquarters and the BAU. He was safer here than anywhere on earth. What was happening?

Heads turned all over the room. Hotch, Rossi and Strauss looked up from the documents they'd been looking at in alarm.

Nearer to Reid, Morgan had leapt to his feet. "What the hell?" He came charging over to Reid, causing him to take another cautious step back at the sight of the big man bearing down on him. He never been afraid of Morgan, but this was a new side of Morgan, from the steely look in his eye.

As Reid stumbled over a chair, Morgan grabbed him hard by the shoulders. "What . . .? How . . .? Not funny!" Morgan finally stopped yelling and just shook the smaller man, then gave him a tight hug, then shook him again.

Spencer's head was spinning by the time JJ's calm voice enticed Morgan to let him go. JJ put a hand on Reid's arm, tears streaming down her face, as Rossi and Prentiss drew Morgan away. Now Reid was scared. "JJ . . . ? Are you okay?"

She just nodded, and wiped her eyes, smiling. "I'm fine, Spence, really. But are you okay?"

Strauss and Hotch had managed to clear the room of all but the team, and were staring at him with the same shocked look that was on everybody else's face.

Reid looked around, now well and truly freaked out. "Ah, I'm fine. But you guys are scaring me," he finished plaintively.

Morgan exploded. "WE'RE scaring YOU?" He was looking around for something to hit. The look on his face caused Reid to step back again.

"Everybody! Sit. Down." Hotch commanded sharply. The tone of voice worked. Everybody moved back to the table except Reid.

"I'll be right back. I need some coffee," Reid said tentatively, edging for the door.

Rossi sighed and got in a word before Morgan could explode. "Kid, just do us a favor. Sit."

"Ah, okay." Reid slipped out of his messenger back and sat, carefully making sure he had a quick escape. He'd decided that everybody had completely lost their mind. Garcia was still staring at him, her expression of shock not changed by one bit. He smiled tentatively at her.

"Reid," Hotch said sternly, "Where have you been?"

Reid looked at the team leader, startled. "At my cabin."

Rossi's eyebrows lifted. "You cabin? What cabin?"

"All weekend?" Hotch asked expectantly.

"Ah, yeah." Reid's eyes flitted across the team. "Gideon left me his cabin. I often go there on weekends."

"Ah, geez," Morgan groaned, shaking his head.

Prentiss just was slack-jawed in disbelief. "Since when?"

Hotch cut through all the reactions. "You're saying that Jason Gideon had left you his cabin, and you've been going there. And that you were there all weekend."

The seriousness in his voice scared Reid. "Yes, Sir." Something was really wrong, and it was serious. It sounded like Hotch was trying to nail down a timeline. He wondered what he was going to be accused of. Whatever it was, he didn't have an alibi. He'd been by himself all three days.

"When did you leave?"

"Friday, right after work."

"Have you been home to your apartment since then?" Hotch asked.

"No, Sir. I left the cabin this morning and drove straight here."

"Good Lord," Rossi muttered, almost under his breath, as Hotch and Strauss exchanged glances.

By this time, Reid was too intimidated to even ask what was going on.

"Reid," Hotch began again after taking a deep breath, clearly steeling himself. When he spoke, his voice was gentler. "Your apartment building exploded at 1:20am Saturday morning. It burned to the ground. There was a body found in your unit. The assumption was that it was you. The build was right. DNA tests are to be concluded later this week, but it was just considered a formality."

Reid looked at him in stunned silence. After a moment, he began, "You mean . . . ?"

Morgan answered the unspoken question. "Yeah, kid. You've been dead since Saturday morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Puzzle Pieces

By Spense

Chapter Two

"Can I have a cup of coffee now?" Reid asked desperately.

JJ gave a half-hysterical laugh. "I'll get you one."

"JJ?" Rossi asked. She looked at him inquiringly.

"Bring a pot."

She gave a laugh that was half sob, and nodded, hurrying off.

"Somebody tried to kill me? Who?" Reid asked. This just wasn't possible. Why would anybody want to? He just couldn't seem to grasp the concept.

"That's what we've been trying to figure out for the last three days," Rossi said wryly.

Reid was just dumbfounded. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around this.

"I'll go get things back under control and quell the rumors," Strauss said getting.

Hotch looked up at her. "Tell them as little as possible. We want whoever did this to go on thinking Reid is dead."

"Are you sure?" Strauss asked.

"Absolutely. It will give us time to figure out who he is," Hotch answered unequivocally.

"All right. Fill me in with on your plan of action once you work it out. I'll take care of the details here." After receiving Hotch's nod of comprehension, Strauss looked at Reid. "I'm glad you're back and among the living, Dr. Reid," she said with a slight smile. On that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Reid could see her talking to people in the bullpen, gathering them, and filling them in on the fact that Reid was to stay dead.

"So I'm still dead?" He finally asked numbly.

"Sorry, kid," Rossi answered.

Finally, a thread of . . . something . . . seemed to percolate in his brain. Eyes wide, the flight mechanism kicked in, and Reid panicked. "My mom!"

"Hey, hey!" Morgan grabbed his arm and firmly pulled him back to his chair. "Whoa, take it easy, it's okay."

"No, Morgan, it's not! My mom thinks I'm dead!" Reid was struggling with the ramifications of that in terms of his mother's health. "I have to call her!"

"Reid." Hotch's calm voice and equally at ease demure cut through Spencer's panic. He stared at the unit chief with wide eyes.

"It's okay. I'm your power of attorney, remember?" Hotch exuded calm and competence.

Reid nodded.

"And it's my job as both your boss and your POA to notify her. And I haven't yet. Nor notified your Dad."

Reid felt like the air was let out of him. Shutting his eyes in relief for a split second, he ignored the comment about his father. That was somebody he still didn't want to think about. Finally, he asked curiously, "Why? Ah, I mean, I'm glad. But why haven't you called her hospital?"

Hotch gave one of his rare smiles, affectionately looking at the young man. "A couple of reasons. First, I was waiting for a DNA conformation. The body was burned beyond recognition, but we were positive it was you. But I still wanted ironclad evidence. Secondly, I just couldn't bring myself to notify your mother until I had that. I guess I was putting off the inevitable."

Reid blinked at that admission.

Prentiss grinned at his reaction. "And we all agreed wholeheartedly."

"I really, really need coffee now," Reid said plaintively.

"Right on cue," JJ said as she pushed into the room, a tray with a huge pot of coffee, cups, cream and sugar. As she set it down on the table, she held out a mug emblazoned with Spencer's name to him. "Already done, complete with as much sugar as coffee."

"Gee, thanks," Reid said, grinning as he accepted it. "And I'm glad to see my mug is still here and hasn't been disposed of yet."

"Your desk is still intact, my man," Morgan grinned. "Barely, but all still there."

"More than can be said for my apartment," Reid responded, sighing.

There was a moment of quiet as they all digested that. One more piece that Reid, quite clearly, hadn't processed yet.

"I'm sorry, Reid," Emily said quietly. "Nothing survived the blaze."

They all thought about pictures, mementoes from trips and childhood, possessions they all cherished, and tried to imagine what it must be like to lose everything. The devastation of loss. But yet again, Reid surprised them.

"I didn't keep a lot there anymore," he said matter-of-factly. "I've never been much into possessions anyway. Too many people thought that destroying my stuff was a good way to torment me growing up. It was easier to just not get attached to things." He shrugged lightly, and was slightly taken aback at the looks of shock from the others at this statement. He really didn't get their astonishment. It was just a fact of life while growing up for him.

He continued. "The things that do mean something to me, like pictures, books and some family stuff, are out at the cabin now." Noting the surprised looks, he shrugged self-consciously and looked down at his coffee.

"But what about clothes, my sweet?" Garcia finally spoke as the shock was wearing off.

Reid blinked and thought a moment. "Ah, that could be a problem," Reid admitted.

"Shopping trip!" Emily grinned.

"Oh, yeah," JJ agreed smiling.

"Ooh, on company time, no less! Garcia was exuberant.

"No, guys, it's okay!" Reid looked in horror at the three women, who were clearly excited by the prospect. "I can do it myself. Morgan can come with me, right?" He looked beseechingly at his friend. "Or Rossi! He dresses well."

Rossi just gave a sardonic snort that said it all.

Morgan just grinned. "Sorry, kid. You're on your own with the ladies here."

"And we couldn't let him go with Hotch!" Garcia stated emphatically.

When Hotch looked at her with a slightly offended, quizzical looked, she added quickly, "A tailored suit, white shirt and silk tie just aren't Reid. Not that there's anything wrong with it!" she hastened to add.

JJ jumped in to save her before she dug herself deeper into a hole. "We'll also have to look for furniture, kitchen supplies, linens, and all kinds of household goods."

Emily was grinning. "This will be great."

It was clear that all three women were metaphorically rubbing their hands together with glee. The terrible circumstances aside, they were all plainly relishing the thought of updating Reid's wardrobe and home into something more current and tasteful.

Reid moaned, and just crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down. This was getting worse by the moment. He just wasn't going to survive. He had liked his clothes and apartment. A muffled "Mor-gan!" issued plaintively from the table.

"Sorry, kid. You're on your own. At least all three ladies have excellent taste."

Another moan was heard.

Morgan laughed. "Besides, Rossi, Hotch and I are going to be busy. We have to be setting up a safe house."

Reid lifted his head from the table and looked at Morgan, puzzled. "A safe house?"

"The unsub tried to kill you, Reid. Where did you think you were going to go?" Hotch asked, slightly bemused.

Reid settled back, looking slightly perplexed. "But maybe he isn't after me?" He finally suggested.

Emily just shook her head with an ironic snort. "Somebody dead in your apartment? Gee, Reid. Who else was he after?"

"Was anybody else hurt?" Reid asked suddenly. He couldn't believe it had taken that long to process that thought.

The silence that followed was answer in itself. They all knew that Reid liked, and was well liked in return by his neighbors. A less than affluent neighborhood, and peopled with individuals as quirky and out of the main-stream as Reid himself was; there was genuine affection between all of them. The building had housed students, people on fixed incomes, some disabled, and single parents. An odd mix, but a group that tended to look out for each other, as they weren't the first generally on the police or the political radar.

"I'm sorry, Reid, but yes. There were other casualties," Prentiss said gently.

"Who?" Reid asked, the fear in his eyes evident.

"You're next door neighbor, Mr. Lance," JJ said quietly, "and a couple directly below you."

"The Warners," Reid broke in numbly. "They were both graduate students. They were talking about starting a family soon."

"Also, the woman directly above your unit. Carol Tiner," JJ continued.

"She was disabled and in a wheelchair. She couldn't move very fast," Reid filled in, beginning to look stricken.

"Reid, all this happened at about 1:30 am. From what we understood, they were asleep, and never woke up. It happened that fast," Morgan said earnestly, trying to help his friend. "Your corner of the building just disintegrated."

Hotch watched in concern as Reid's face went whiter as the shock began to set in. He looked like he couldn't take anything more at the moment. "There are more Reid. We have a list, and I'm sure JJ can get you memorial service times."

JJ understood instantly why Hotch was changing the subject, and followed his lead seamlessly. "Of course. I do have a list. And I can get you a list of where the survivors are staying, if you'd like. Only eight people died out of the entire building. A miraculously small number when you consider how fast it went up."

"Eight too many," Reid murmured, thinking of his friends. He just couldn't bear to even ask who the other four were right now.

"JJ, why don't you take Reid into my office. Help him make a list of what his immediate needs are. The rest of us will get to work on setting up a safe house," Hotch instructed.

JJ nodded, and stood up. She understood Hotch's unspoken instructions at one. It was her job to make sure Spence was okay, and provide support and a listening ear.

"Do you need me, JJ?" Garcia asked, looking at her young friend in concern as Reid got up robotically from his chair, numbly following JJ.

"Not right now," she answered with a smile. "But definitely for the shopping."

"And me!" Prentiss chimed in, consciously helping to lighten the mood.

The low groan from Reid as he picked up his coffee cup, and on second thought, grabbed the pot as well, showed that it was working. At least a little bit.

JJ smiled knowingly at the others as she grabbed the coffee tray, and ushered Reid out the door.

The others watched them go, and walk down the catwalk, JJ effortlessly shepherding Reid across the walkway, and away from watching eyes. They waited until they were safely in Hotch's office with the door closed then turned back to one another, eyes hardening and moods growing serious.

"Ok, what's changed?" Rossi asked. "With Reid alive, is there anything different?"

"No," Morgan said grimly. "Except now we can pick his brain, rather than just his files."

"But carefully," Hotch warned. "This is a huge shock, and Reid's never dealt with emotional issues all that well."

"Ya think?" Prentiss said wryly, remember that verbal barbs she took after Reid's run-in with Tobias Henkel.

"Do you think he'll have any of the problems he had after Georgia?" Morgan asked, rather cryptically.

Emily looked at him, startled. It was like he was reading her mind.

None of them had ever talked openly about Reid's problems with Dilaudid after the incident in Georgia, but it was an open secret.

"No," Hotch said firmly. "Reid has dealt with that, and knows how to now and in the future. But we don't take chances. Watch him, and provide support as needed. Subtly."

"Of course," Emily murmured.

"We'll take care of him," Garcia added fiercely.

"That's probably what he's afraid of," Rossi added with a slight smile.

Morgan started to laugh, startling the group. "That kid must have nine lives. How many times has he come back from the dead?" He shook his head. It was unbelievable.

"I don't even want to count," Hotch said dryly.

"Amen to that," Rossi added.

"But he's back, and he's alive!" Garcia was grinning manically.

"That scream of yours would have woke the dead, woman," Morgan guffawed.

"I'll say," Emily grinned. "Good vocals."

"I don't care," Garcia defended herself. "We have our boy genius back."

"Amen," Hotch echoed the relief in the room, and they settled down to work on the safe house.


	3. Chapter 3

Puzzle Pieces

By Spense

Chapter Three

Hotch tapped on the door of the nondescript house in a middle class neighborhood of the suburbs. As he waited for the door to be answered, he looked around. All completely normal for dusk on a Tuesday night following the Labor Day weekend. The seventies style split level homes were full of families, recovering from the first day of school, or the retired, retreating from the humid heat. Normal activity. Unremarkable activity. The house, whose porch he was standing on, was just as unremarkable. Slightly overgrown foliage, cleverly planted to conceal comings and goings, was exactly in the same state of repair as the others surrounding it. All was as it should be.

The door opened to reveal JJ. Hotch looked at her in surprise. "Aren't you supposed to be home with Will and Henry by now? I though Prentiss and I were taking the night shift."

The media smiled. "Well, yes. But Spence is still really unsettled. Not that he'd say anything. I talked to Will, and he agreed that I should stay. Spence seems calmer if I'm here."

Hotch gave JJ one of his rare smiles, looking affectionately at the blond. "What would we do without you, JJ? You keep us all grounded. We're all calmer with you around."

Smiling in response, she stepped aside to let him in, the gun that had been held ready behind the door, now casually in sight. "What's for dinner?"

Hotch glanced at the bags he was carrying. "Chinese. I got a lot, figuring we could eat on it for a day or so. Besides, Reid and Morgan eat a lot."

"That they do. And it was a good thought, but it will probably be gone by tonight." At Hotch's quizzical look, she elaborated. "Garcia and Kevin are here as well."

"Kevin?" The disapproval in Hotch's voice and expression made JJ elaborate quickly.

"They're playing Dungeons and Dragons. Garcia knew you wouldn't like anybody else besides the team knowing, but she thought this was the best way to distract Reid, and Kevin is part of their regular group."

Hotch sighed. "Ok. What's done is done. Has he been warned of the risks?"

JJ grinned. "Oh, yeah. Basically he's stuck here with Reid, and he knew it coming it."

Hotch moved towards the kitchen. "Good. Where's Prentiss?"

JJ began to unload the cartons onto a huge tray she found in one of the cupboards. "Playing with them."

Hotch stopped dead as he was setting plates onto another tray. "You're kidding." He was incredulous.

Laughing, JJ answered. "She's part of the regular group as well. She's a complete science nerd, just like the rest of them. I thought you knew that."

Shaking his head, Hotch answered, " I did. But I didn't realized that she'd 'come out' and admitted it publically, and joined them on game nights."

"We all have our hidden depths," JJ pointed out, adding drinks to their loads.

Hotch just nodded agreement. Just when he thought there was no surprises left, one of them always managed to do just that.

Walking into the game in the dinning room just brought that thought home even further.

The four players were all on the edge of their chairs, leaning forward, intent on the game. Game paraphernalia was all over the table, as well multiple beverage glasses. Some were half full of various sodas, leaving wet rings on the table, others were empty and abandoned. Clearly, they'd been at this for some time.

Hotch stopped and looked on in amusement for just a second. They looked like college grad students with nothing more serious to think about that the game. Who would have known that the four sitting at the table arguing animatedly were some of the top in their field in the FBI. They knew from their jobs that appearances could be deceiving and never believed the obvious of criminals, but it was true of the 'good guys' as well. This just brought that fact home.

"Dinner!" Hotch announced, and began moving toward the table. "Clear it off, or the food goes on top."

"Ack! No! Do not mess with wizards, mortal!" Garcia announced, diving for the game.

"Sorry, Hotch," Prentiss looked up, distressed, as she hurried to clear spaces. "I didn't know you were here already." She was clearly uncomfortable at being caught playing Dungeons and Dragons.

"No problem. But food is here and hot," Hotch smiled reassuringly at her and was pleased to see her relax.

For a moment, there was complete chaos, as gamers cleared the game off to the side of the large table, and Hotch and JJ set down their burdens. Then the bedlam settled as they began to serve themselves from the bounty. But everything halted when the doorbell rang.

Hotch looked around. "Expecting anybody?"

"No," Prentiss said shortly, getting up and pulling her gun as Hotch did the same.

The group at the table waited nervously until they answered the door, then relaxed once more at the familiar tones of Rossi and Morgan.

"Just in time for dinner, I see," Rossi said looking pleased the enormous load of Chinese food cartons on the table.

"What are you two doing here?" Reid asked as Morgan followed Rossi into the room. Hotch and Prentiss rounded out the group and everybody settled down at the table.

"Oh, we just figured you'd be bored with just Prentiss and Hotch here. And it looks like we weren't the only ones who thought that," Rossi answered, helping himself.

"Ah, it's okay. You didn't have to come. We were just playing D&D," Reid said, even as he looked pleased.

"Dungeons and Dragons? Seriously?" Morgan asked, incredulous. "I thought that went out in the 80s. Aren't you behind on the times? Games are on computers now. Stuff like Halo is much better."

Before the four players could refute this, Rossi unexpectedly stepped in. "D&D lives on in more intellectual minds. We don't all need to play the 'shot 'em up' games with everything and every move spelled our for us. And, I brought something even more fun." He paused expectantly.

"What?" Prentiss asked suspiciously.

"Trivial Pursuit – Star Trek edition!" Rossi announced triumphantly.

The four D&D players whooped their approval.

Morgan just stared open-mouthed. "Rossi? You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am. And I'm going to clean you young'uns clocks."

"No you aren't!"

"But I'm the king of Star Trek trivia!"

"In your dreams, old man."

The enthusiastic denials came thick and fast, to Hotch and JJ's open-mouthed astonishment.

"You're okay with this?" Morgan demanded of Prentiss.

"Not only okay, but I'm so going to ace this," she said laughing.

"Emily, this is a new side of you," JJ commented.

"You ain't seen nothing yet!" She responded.

"Rossi, I didn't know this about you," Hotch was saying on the other side of the table.

"What, that I like Star Trek?"

"No, that you were part of the gaming set," Hotch indicated the four gamers with a general wave of his hand.

"I play weekly with them. I guess we all have our hidden sides," Rossi shrugged, unconsciously echoing JJ's comments earlier.

"I guess," Hotch muttered, turning back to his food, and listening to the good natured arguing around the table as the gamers engaged Morgan in verbal battle.

The evening passed quickly and in a remarkably pleasant fashion given the circumstances. The good thing was that they were successful in diverting Reid's attention from the fire to at least enjoying the present few moments. In between the Trivial Pursuit (Star Trek Edition) battle, the conversation ranged far and wide, and unspoken, was firmly directed to safe topics and away from the fire.

One of the first of which was the shopping trip. Morgan made sure he asked how it went right out of the gate, a wicked grin on his face. The glare from Reid was obvious and the delight of the women was apparent.

"I love spending somebody else's money!" Garcia announced with glee, at the same time JJ commented with characteristic tact that accommodating Reid's taste was a bit of a problem. Emily seconded that resoundingly, and with a lot less delicacy.

"I like what I like!" Reid protested.

"Where did you go?" Rossi asked curiously.

JJ shrugged resignedly. "Normal places. Macy's. The Gap."

Reid scowled. "It's all stuff that's all alike."

JJ broke in. "We got khaki's and polo shirts at The Gap."

"I was okay with that," Reid agreed.

JJ continued, "Then we hit Macy's for more basics."

"They at least let me shop for underwear on my own," Reid muttered.

"Only because we were picking out some basic dressier clothes that you need, and that we knew you'd never agree too. And frankly, they will look terrific on you," Prentiss pointed out. "We're not letting you look like a seventy year old anymore."

"How did you get him to buy them?" Morgan asked, curious.

"He didn't have a choice," Prentiss said, her eyes narrowed. "I carry a gun."

A round of laughter at that from all but Reid, who glared at her.

"Did you get anything that you liked?" Rossi asked curiously.

Reid brightened. "I got some converse tennis shoes. And when they were off buying the dress stuff, I got some shirts and pants and a couple of ties that I liked."

JJ inserted, "And they were really very nice. Very Reid." She sounded a little bemused at that unexpected development.

Reid ignored her and continued. "And we finally stopped at a thrift store. I wanted to go there first. Emily and JJ didn't want to go, but Garcia was all for it, so we went there last. I got some stuff I liked a lot there."

"No cardigan sweaters. Please tell me ladies, that you didn't let him get any cardigans," Morgan moaned.

JJ and Emily's expressions suddenly became quizzical, which Reid and Garcia looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. Emily said slowly, "You know, it was pretty uncanny what Reid and Garcia could find. JJ and I couldn't find anything, but Reid and Garcia came back with some pretty nice stuff."

"You should see the vest the genius here found," Garcia gushed. "It looks great with the pocket watch and chain he found there as well. And a couple of wonderful wool blazers in amazing tweeds. And fun ties."

Reid smiled. "I found some great clothes there. Garcia and I are going to check out another second hand store in the area tomorrow."

Garcia explained. "We got him the basic clothes he needed today, except for a good suit, and we all agreed that Reid and I would go to the second hand store for more stuff, and JJ and Em would go scouting for housewares tomorrow , and eventually, Hotch, Morgan, Reid and I will go looking for the suit."

"I don't care about any of that stuff," Reid pointed out. "Except a coffee machine."

"Exactly," Garcia emphasized. "So we go for the stuff he likes, including books. And JJ and Em can decorate his new apartment. When we find it. We'll just store the stuff here."

Morgan broke in. "Excuse me, but I thought I just heard my name in connection with shopping here."

"And mine," Hotch commented, bemused.

"You did," JJ grinned.

"Reid here," Prentiss spoke up thoughtfully, "Turned out to be unexpectedly stubborn about his taste in clothes. He likes what he likes and while we all know that having a good suit is a necessity, Reid isn't convinced. It's going to take a couple of well-dressed males to get him into one."

"I can go with along as well," Rossi commented, somewhat affronted to be left out of the 'well-dressed male' comment.

"Excellent!" Garcia crowed. "And I'm along to make sure you don't turn him into a Stepford FBI agent."

"Hey!" Morgan glared. Hotch looked as affronted as Rossi.

Garcia was unrepentant. Reid was clearly resigned.

The women all nodded happily at this arrangement; satisfied that they at least got Reid into enough reasonable clothes, that now he could happily search for the 'unique' items he liked.

Hotch was amused at this rendition. From what he could see, the ladies were surprised that Reid turned out to have such a strong opinion on clothes. Everybody had always believed that Reid just wore what was at hand. That may have been true when he began with the department, but apparently he had slowly developed his own sense of style along the way without any of them really noticing. Thinking back on it, Hotch thought he could see the progression. Some group profilers they all were.

Smiling at his thoughts, he pointed out, "Looks like you've found a kindred spirit in Garcia, Reid."

Reid looked happy. "Yeah, she can find exactly what I like."

Looking at the flamboyant Analyst, whose taste was as eccentric and non-mainstream as Reid's own, somehow that seemed about right. She'd always had her style, and she would definitely help Reid continued to mold his.


	4. Chapter 4

Puzzle Pieces

By Spense

Chapter Four

Note: Spoiler's for _Elephant's Memory_ , _Profiler, Profiled_ and _Momoriam_

Knowing it was very early, and judging by the late hour everybody finally retired, Hotch moved silently down the stairway. He and Rossi had retired first, leaving the younger members of the team in the dining room, continuing the game. He'd gone to sleep hearing the laughter. For all the horrible reason they were here in the safe house, it had been an enjoyable evening.

Stopping in the doorway to the dining room, Hotch could see that the party had moved on. The glasses had multiplied and were now covering the surface of the table, wet rings staining the wood. Papers littered the remaining surface, as well as dice and other gaming paraphernalia. Shaking his head at the mess, he moved on to the family room.

Here was where he found his missing team. Morgan and Garcia were curled up together on one end of the couch, with the flamboyant analyst's feet propped up on Kevin Lynch's lap as he slouched on the other end. Hotch shook his head with a smile. Morgan and Garcia were only just off the Human Resources Department's radar. Their relationship had sexual harassment written all over it for the uninitiated. Neither had any idea of the amount of work he was continually doing to deflect the upper echelons from their unusual relationship. It was worth it, though. Good profilers tended to be less than mainstream. A look at their entire team as a whole would provide the proof of that.

Hotch looked on. JJ and Prentiss shared one giant easy chair on the other side of the fireplace, and Reid was curled up into an impossibly small ball in another. All were out cold.

At least Hotch thought they were all sound asleep. On a second glance, Reid's eyes were wide open and staring fixedly at him. One look at his eyes, dilated and wide, convinced Hotch that JJ was right, Reid wasn't nearly as together as he was trying to make everybody believe.

Putting a finger to his lips in a 'quiet' motion, he whispered, "Come on, I'll make coffee." He was gratified to see Reid relax as he processed that it really was Hotch, and everything was okay.

By the time Hotch had the coffee done and was scrambling some eggs, Reid emerged from upstairs. He clearly taken a quick shower by the look of his wet hair, and was dressed in khakis and a button down twill shirt in olive green. Hotch looked him over for a second, then said, "Prentiss or JJ?"

Reid sighed as he latched onto a filled coffee cup waiting for him on the counter, and said "JJ."

Hotch hid a grin and turned back to the eggs. Soon enough, he and Reid were sitting enjoying a quiet breakfast. They were joined by a silent Rossi, ghosting his way into the room. Only after they'd all finished, and had imbibed enough coffee to wake up, did the conversation start.

"Can you think of anyone, anyone at all who would do this to you?" Rossi asked

Reid looked at him like he had two heads.

Rossi quickly elaborated as Hotch hid a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know - the list is long given what we do. But you know as well as I do that the profile of somebody who would actually burn down a building and not care about the innocent they kill is rather limited."

Reid shrugged in frustration. "I know. And I've been thinking about it. Hard. And I just can't come up with anybody." He turned the question back. "You've been working on this for three days. What have you come up with?"

"No more than you," Rossi admitted.

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way," Hotch said slowly.

"At what?" Morgan asked, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen.

"At who has done this too Reid." Rossi elaborated.

"Maybe it has something to do somebody connected to another one of us, trying to get at our friends instead," Hotch commented.

Morgan winced slightly, thinking of Haley's death, and noticed the looks on the other's faces as well, making it clear they were thinking the same thing.

Hotch went on, either not noticing the reaction, or more likely, ignoring the whole thought. "If that's the case, then we need to make sure that all of our families, and all of us are protected."

"Good thing we all stayed here last night," Rossi commented wryly.

"I'll get to the office and get on that right now," Hotch said, getting up. "Prentis and JJ can join me when they wake up."

"I'm awake," a blurry voice floated in just before it's owner appeared.

"Funny, you don't look it," Morgan commented.

"Shut up," Prentiss said without heat.

"Coffee's on the counter," Reid pointed out, knowing that she wouldn't be any good until she'd scored some caffeine.

"Who made it?" Prentis was awake enough to ask suspiciously.

"Hotch," Reid grinned.

"Oh. Okay then. Good." And she drifted over to procure a cup, much to the other's amusement.

"And Morgan?" Hotch looked at the other agent, who lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgement. "I want you and Rossi to go over anybody in Reid's past that might have had a hand in this."

Reid looked rebellious at this thought. "There isn't anybody," he scowled. "I was uninteresting."

A burst of laughter answered that. Even Hotch looked doubtful and turned his laser gaze onto the young agent. "Try anyway."

Reid swallowed nervously and wilted. "Ah, okay."

Hotch nodded succulently. "Good. Prentiss, you and JJ join me at the office as soon as you can."

"Got it," Prentiss waved him away, looking only marginally more awake.

Hotch looked around the room. Rossi caught his eye. "Go, we'll be okay, and we'll see what we can come up with."

Hotch nodded and headed out.

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So it was that at 8:00 AM on the Wednesday morning following the fire, Morgan, Rossi, Reid, and Garcia were gathered around in a closed office off the living room, grilling a reluctant Reid. Garcia had banished Kevin, knowing that the very private young man would have a hard enough time talking about people in his past with his team members, and that it would be downright impossible with an outsider, even one who was friend. Kevin was now tasked with cleaning the dinning room and the family room. As Garcia cheerfully commented, that would take him several hours and keep him out of their hair.

They'd been at it for half an hour, and Reid was already looking mutinous. Morgan was beginning to wish that they'd kept JJ here with them. Her tact would have been useful. Reid was obviously not happy about opening up about his past, and it was like pulling teeth. Morgan felt more like he was grilling a suspect than talking to a team member.

"Reid, this is important," Morgan stated in exasperation.

"I know, but I really don't think this is the direction to look. My past isn't that eventful," Reid snapped back.

All in the room ignored that patently false comment.

"We all have enemies in our past," Rossi stated gently, leaning forward , emphasizing how vital he felt this was. "We've all made mistakes and hurt people. And people have hurt us. And you know, better than anybody, how twisted the mind can become. Your upbringing was unusual, and your meteoric rise through the academic system certainly offended some people. Now try again. Who would have been denied an opportunity because of your sailing past them?"

Reid just shrugged, frustrated. "I don't know! It didn't matter to anybody!"

"It didn't matter to you," Rossi corrected. "It could have mattered very much to somebody else."

"Kid, you told me the story once about being tied to a goal post. What about that group of kids?" Morgan asked.

Reid stared at him in consternation and betrayal. He couldn't even breathe for a moment, as he took in the monumental fact that Morgan was breaking a confidence. Again. Just like he had when Reid was having nightmares and told Gideon.

"Sorry kid, but I'd rather have you alive to be mad at me, than dead, and find out one of them took it too the next level," Morgan said grimly. He'd deal with the consequences of this later, but right now? He just wanted his friend to stay alive.

No wonder the man was such a good interrogator, Reid thought rebelliously. Stubbornly, he pursed his lips tight, refusing to say more.

As the others looked on, concerned, Morgan filled them in. "When Reid was a preteen in high school, a gang of jocks and cheerleaders tricked him to get him out to the football field, stripped him, and tied him to the goal post. They taunted him for awhile, then just left him there."

"Did you tell anybody?" Garcia gasped in horror.

"No," Reid said through gritted teeth.

"What about your Mom?" Rossi asked. "What did she do? They may have been punished and you not known about it."

"Mom didn't notice."

Morgan stepped in briskly. "Reid didn't get loose until a couple of hours later, and he got himself free. His Mom was having one of her episodes and didn't notice."

"Oh, my lord," Garcia exclaimed softly, clearly aghast.

Reid ignored her, and steeled himself. "None of them could have done this."

"Are you sure?" Rossi asked carefully. "If they failed in life after high school, the resentment that you 'made it' could have been festering for years."

"That's my thought as well," Morgan said, nodding.

"Reid, we need a list of names," Rossi said carefully. "I know it's hard, but we need to look into these people."

"I don't remember," Reid said firmly.

"Bull! You remember everything. We're trying to help you!" Morgan got up and started pacing around the room, rubbing the side of his head.

"By bringing up everything I want to forget? How's that helping?" Reid snapped, irritated, angry, and upset, all at once.

"Reid, Sweetie, we need to find out who did this. We have to find the person who hates you enough to try to take you away from us! There just can't happen!"

Garcia's typical, succinctly emotional way of putting things defused Reid instantly. They were worried, he got it. So was he. But they'd also spent three days thinking he was dead. He didn't think he could have taken that, had he been one of the team left when another member had been murdered. Just the thought of that was a knife in the gut. He felt tired. And he just couldn't believe that somebody from his past would hate him enough, or even remember him enough to want him dead.

"Kid, I'm sorry. Really. I don't want to betray you. But we absolutely have to know." Morgan said, emotion clear in his voice as he dropped back into his chair.

"Fine," Reid snapped, unsympathetic. "Give me the clipboard. I'll give you their names."

Morgan looked unhappily at his young friend. The tension in Reid was clear in every inch of his body. Morgan regretted the need of this kind of invasion, but it was necessary. "Look kid, I know what it's like to have all the skeletons from your closet put on display and analyzed. Even by people you care about, and who you know have your best interests at heart and will not judge you. It isn't easy. But it is important. Not only for you, but for anybody they may hurt in the future as well."

Reid instantly remembered Chicago. He met Morgan's eye immediately, and read the compassion and understanding. Spencer suppressed a shiver. Morgan had really laid his whole soul bare then, albeit figuratively kicking and screaming, but he'd done it. And they'd taken a pedophile off the street because of it. And now they all knew Morgan's most shameful secret. And that couldn't be taken back. His friend was right.

Rossi saw the turn in Reid's attitude immediately. He didn't know what the veiled references meant, but clearly it had gotten through. He stepped in at once to make use of the change. "Anyone else? Somebody who thinks you might know something about them? Something you say? You might not have been a threat then, but maybe now that you're in the FBI?" Rossi trailed off as he saw Reid turn inward.

The room was silent, letting Reid process and think. For his part, Rossi's words had touched something. Something he'd done his best to forget.

"What is it, Reid?" Morgan prompted softly, leaning forward and catching his friend's eye.

Reid looked up at him, looking desperate.

"I can leave," Garcia said quickly, seeing the look in Reid's gaze. She began to rise.

"No, Baby Girl, I think you'd better stay," Morgan said, not losing eye contact with Reid. "We may need you after this."

Garcia sank back down, reading the 'we' as Reid. Morgan was probably right.

Reid closed his eyes for a moment. He'd almost managed to forget.

"Come on, kid. Talk to me. I've been in your shoes. Remember?" Morgan coaxed.

Behind them, Rossi slowly pulled out the tiny voice recorder he carried with him, and switched it on. This was going to be important, he could tell.

Reid swallowed convulsively, and opened his eyes, leaning back and looking at the ceiling, so he wouldn't have to see anybody else in the room. "They took pictures."

"Who, Reid?" Morgan prompted softly.

"Ah, the kids who tied me to the goalpost." Reid swallowed again, concentrated on the textured ceiling, a part of him providing the fact that it clearly hadn't been changed since the seventies. "And, they . . . they passed them around at school the next Monday. They made sure that I knew that everybody had seen them." Reid's voice was quiet. So quiet that they almost couldn't hear.

"I know some of the teachers saw them as well, but they pretended not too. I mean, the kids who had them were the football players and the cheerleaders. They were untouchable, and the teachers knew if they tried to do something, they'd be in trouble and not the kids." Reid swallowed hard once again. "I tried to hide as much as possible, but they were everywhere. Both the jocks and the pictures. I'd find copies of the pictures in my books in class, or they'd make sure somebody dropped one in front of me as I was walking. This went on for a couple of days. I thought about skipping school, but if I did, the office would call my Mom, and she was still in the middle of her episode right then, and that would bring CPS down on us."

"What did you do?" Morgan prompted when Reid paused.

"I just tried to be invisible," Reid looked at Morgan quickly, then tilted his head back to look at the ceiling once more. "By Friday, the kids were getting bored. They had a game that night, so they were changing focus. It wasn't so much fun anymore. But I stayed late in my last class, Chemistry, helping Mr. Martin clean up, so I wouldn't be in their line of fire after school. He offered to take me home, and I agreed, thinking it would keep me clear." Reid's voice broke slightly as he spoke, and he stopped to pull himself together.

"When we got home, Mr. Martin said he wanted to talk to my mother. I tried to tell him she wasn't home, but the lights were on, so he knew. He wouldn't take no for an answer. I did everything I could to deflect him, but he was insistent, and there wasn't anything I could do. When he saw my mom, he knew instantly. The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. I knew he wasn't the man he appeared to be at school, but I didn't know why. Then, Mom asked him to stay for dinner. He humored her the whole time. She thought he was Fred Astaire and she was Ginger Rodgers, and he played right along, right up to dancing with her. And actually," he added thoughtfully, "they were pretty good." Reid could sense the horror coming off his friends. He knew it would get worse.

"Then while she did the dishes, he asked to see my science project. Mom told me to take him to my room and show him. She made me take him." Reid broke off. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. "He kept his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream. I could hardly breathe. Mom didn't even notice that we were in there for hours. When we came out she thought we'd only been gone a few minutes. When he was done, he told me that if I told anybody, he'd tell them about my mom and I'd never see her again."

Morgan's voice was taunt with anger. "So your Mom never knew? You never told anybody?"

Reid knew it wasn't directed at him. "No. I couldn't. Anymore than I could tell them about . . ." Damn his big mouth. He shouldn't have said that. He needed to be thinking cleared.

"Reid," Morgan said warningly, "Tell about what?"

Reid clenched his eyes tight. "That my dad used to do the same thing," he whispered. "It wasn't the first time somebody had . . ." And he just couldn't say it. He wouldn't. Nobody could make him.

Rossi was immediately thrust back to the moment when he and Morgan were in Las Vegas helping Reid uncover whether his father was the murderer of Riley Jenkins. Reid had insisted on going under hypnosis, and had remembered his father coming into his room, telling him that he knew he was awake. Adult Reid had been saying "I can't be here, I don't want to be here," and they'd moved on to find what they needed. Clearly, he'd missed a pretty big tell that afternoon. He felt sick.

"Okay, Reid. What was Mr. Martin's first name?" Morgan asked.

Reid was grateful that he didn't follow up on the last revelation. "George."

"Did he ever . . . touch . . . you again?"

Reid only nodded, then added, "I don't want to talk anymore."

"Okay. That's enough for now. You stay here as long as you need to."

Reid kept his eyes screwed shut as he heard Morgan and Rossi leave the room. He could feel Garcia still in the room. _I don't want to talk anymore about it_ he thought desperately. He kept repeating that thought over and over, trying to hold himself together until he was alone. Then, arms were wrapped around him, and Garcia's voice said softly, "Oh, Sweetie . . ." and suddenly he was glad she was there.


	5. Chapter 5

Puzzle Pieces

By Spense

Chapter Five

"Son of a BITCH!" Morgan growled as he prowled Hotch's office. He'd left the house immediately after the discussion with Reid and gone to the office, told Hotch the bare bones, then sequestered himself on the computer and pulled up anything he could find on Martin. Now, a few hours later, armed with information, he and Hotch were in contact with the Las Vegas Sheriff's department.

Rossi had stayed back at the house, and Morgan was grateful.

Hotch waved him silent as he listened to the voice on the other end of the telephone. "Yes, that's right. George Martin, Chemistry Teacher at Las Vegas High School. Yes, those were the years in question. Have there been other allegations?" Hotch listened some more. "Ok, thank you. Keep us apprised. He may be a suspect in a murder investigation."

Hotch hung up, and looked up to see Morgan staring at him. He sighed. "George Martin has been suspected for a long time, but nobody has ever been able to prove anything. He's still teaching."

Morgan growled low, and returned to pacing.

"Morgan, sit down."

Morgan looked back at his boss, and at his expression, dropped onto the couch.

Hotch continued. "Based on the information you dug up on the computer, Martin is a viable suspect. He fits the profile of a pedophile. The Las Vegas office has been in contact with the sheriff's department, and confirmed that he has been suspected, but nothing has ever been proven. And they provided the information that he was off on vacation last week. They are checking now to see where he went."

Morgan's face went hard. "Can they pick him up?"

"With Reid's tape? Yes. I talked to Rossi right after you told me, and he confirmed he had the conversation recorded. "

"What set him off?" Morgan asked curiously. "After all this time. . ."

"Apparently Reid recently published a paper on some chemistry finds he recently made, and won an award for it," Hotch told him.

"So? The kid's publishing all the time," Morgan shrugged.

"Yes. But the award was written up in the Las Vegas news paper, a kind of local kid does good story. Anyway, the Principle made sure that Martin saw it, as Reid was his former student. The story talked about his current profession as a profiler for the FBI," Hotch finished.

"And Martin panicked," Morgan finished nodding.

"That's about it," Hotch agreed. He paused for a moment, thinking, then continued. "But there's another thing you should know. . ."

"What?" Morgan asked suspiciously.

Hotch sighed, then spoke. "When I talked to him this morning, Dave said Reid had recanted what he said about his father."

"WHAT!" Morgan jumped back to his feet and surged forward. Putting his hands on the front of Hotch's desk, he glared at his boss. "That's crap! I was there. He wasn't faking. He didn't mean to say it, but it came out, and it was true. Anybody in the room could confirm it."

"I know, Morgan. I don't doubt you. And from everything I've heard, I believe it. But Reid is completely overwhelmed right now. Bad enough that he's lost his home, somebody is trying to kill him, and has killed friends of his - now we're rummaging through the most personal things in his past. He just can't deal with this as well right now," Hotch met Morgan's gaze straight on, not backing down an inch.

"He can't back out about Martin!" It was as much a question as a statement.

"No, and he's not. Reid knows the score. Martin isn't just about him anymore. There are people dead. No, he just said he didn't know what he was saying about his father. And Rossi has good reason to believe he's lying, but he also said now isn't the time to push it."

"So we're just going to let the fact that his father . . ." Morgan couldn't even say it. He wanted to strangle the man. "So we're just going to let it go?"

"No." Hotch was unequivocal. "We are not. We'll follow up, but discretely, and we won't press it until Reid's ready. But we will follow up. His father will not get away with this."

Morgan relaxed somewhat, straightening up and stretching his back. "Good."

Hotch continued. "We'll put Garcia on it as soon as she's back here."

Morgan grinned. "I bet she's already started."

Hotch shook his head, thinking of their analyst. Garcia did seem to think rules were just blurry lines to be crossed when necessary. "You're probably right."

After a pause, Hotch continued. "Ok, keep digging. See if you can link Martin to the fire in any way. "

"If he was in the area, we'll know," Morgan said grimly.

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Hotch looked up from yet another phone call to Las Vegas to see Morgan, JJ and Prentiss entering his office and shutting the door. "Ok, yes, I understand. Let me know when the arraignment will be. Thanks."

He hung up and looked up as the others settled on the couch and chairs around the office. "Martin's been arrested. Once it came out that there was proof, other victims have started to make accusations. Apparently Reid wasn't the only person he blackmailed. They've got him cold."

"Good," Prentiss said with a forced smile.

Hotch's brow wrinkled as he looked at the part of his team gathered in the room with him. Prentiss and Morgan looked stunned, and confused. JJ just looked stunned. "What is it?"

JJ spoke. "That's good news. But . . . I just heard from the Fire Department about Reid's fire."

"Yes?" Hotch prompted as she paused.

"The fire, it was, well, accidental."

Hotch just looked at her, trying to change gears from a child molester and arsonist, to something completely unconnected.

"The Fire Department has been doing their own investigation," JJ continued.

Hotch nodded. "Standard protocol."

JJ nodded, acknowledging his comment, and continued. "They found a meth lab in the basement. Apparently, the couple directly below Reid, the Warners, had set it up. It was directly below their apartment. They'd partitioned off part of the basement and cut a trap door through their floor. "

"And that started the fire?" Hotch asked, incredulous.

JJ nodded. "Yes."

"But, the body . . .?"

"They just got the DNA back. First, it didn't match Reid, as we know. Second, it did match a man missing since Saturday. This man, Jet Cummings, was a known drug dealer and a thief. He has been connected to the Warners. It seems he was their partner in the drug business. They did the cooking and he did the selling. Apparently he was in the process of robbing Reid's place when the explosion happened. Coincidence." JJ shrugged helplessly.

Hotch just listened in appalled fascination as JJ continued.

"The police had a strong case against him, and have been trying to find his suppliers for quite awhile. The DNA test, and the explosion at the apartment building connected the two cases, and it didn't take long for them to put the pieces together."

It took Hotch a moment to change gears and put all the pieces together. "So, you mean, Martin had nothing to do with it?"

"Right," JJ said helplessly.

"And the case is closed?"

"Yes," JJ added.

"We checked it out. They're right," Morgan confirmed.

Hotch sat back, dumbfounded. "Occam's Razor," he muttered.

"The simplest explanation is usual the correct one," JJ paraphrased. "We never looked at the obvious. That it wasn't connected to Reid at all."

"Some group of profilers we are," Prentiss growled.

"Well, we got a pedophile of the streets of Las Vegas," Hotch added.

Morgan just started to laugh. "I don't believe it."

"Sometimes things just aren't always about us, I guess," Prentiss supplied, beginning to laugh herself.

Hotch began to grin himself. It was almost intoxicating, having things change just that fast. "Have you told Reid?"

"Not yet," JJ smiled.

"Why don't we all go," Hotch said, getting up and grabbing his jacket.

They all scrambled up, and followed Hotch out of the office, glad to be able to impart good news for once.

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Reid just sat, open mouthed, listening in disbelief. Rossi, Garcia, and Kevin were just as dumbfounded.

"You mean, it didn't have anything to do with the FBI?" Kevin just couldn't seem to grasp it.

Garcia bounced up, grabbing his arm, looking delighted. "Nope! And my junior G-man is safe! And we can find him an apartment, and get out of this house, and go back to work, and . . ."

"Whoa, Baby Doll! Enough!" Morgan broke her off with a grin, looking at the couple, and the look of relief of Kevin's face when Garcia stopped trying to take his arm off.

Rossi was the next to get a handle on himself and change gears. "That is good news. What about Martin?

"Arrested. He had several victims," Hotch told him. "Apparently, they began coming out of the woodwork once news came out that he'd been taken into custody."

The party atmosphere in the house swirled around Reid like he was a rock in a river, parting the waters. Numbly, he processed what he was being told. It was almost too much. Gradually, a few facts began to separate themselves and impress their importance. The first was that he hadn't had to unburden himself of the secret he'd kept so long. The second was that there had been other victims. If he'd come forward earlier, he might have been able to stop it. But before he could get too overloaded with the negative emotions, Morgan interrupted him with a smile and a hand on his shoulder.

"Pretty boy! Come on, celebrate! Everything is fine. We can find you a place, and get back to normal." Morgan shrugged. "Whatever that is." His grin faded slightly as he took in Reid's face. Sitting down next to him, and eliminating himself from the party, he asked seriously, "What's wrong?"

Reid looked at the celebration for a moment, thinking out his answer. Prentiss had found a bottle of wine, and was acting like it was the best champagne in the world, pouring it into juice glasses and toasting the others. JJ and Garcia were handing out glasses to the others, and everybody had huge grins on their faces, and were absolutely giddy with delight. Even Hotch had a huge smile. Reid made a mental note to remember that.

"Reid?" Morgan asked quietly, nudging his shoulder.

"There were others," Reid finally said numbly, not looking at his friend.

Before Reid could say anymore, Morgan broke in. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. No way. You do not get to take responsibility for that on your shoulders too. Several of them were before you. He'd been doing this for a long time before you came along."

"Yes, but some were after, weren't they?" Reid finally looked at his friend.

"Well, yes, but not that many."

"One's enough," Reid muttered looking blindly back at the celebration.

Morgan huffed in frustration, thought a moment, then began to speak. "Do you blame the prior victims for not coming forward. Do you believe that if they had, you wouldn't have been?"

Reid looked back at Morgan, shocked. "No! They were traumatized! There's no way that they could possibly . . . . Oh."

Morgan grinned again. "Oh," he repeated sagely.

Reid began to open his mouth again to try to refute the argument, but Morgan shook his head. "Nope. No, you do not get to be different. The same goes for you. Nor do you get to regret telling us. Remember, I was in the same position. Frankly, I think you'll find it's a relief when you realize that everybody knows. They understand, they keep it quiet, and you're safe. And you eventually find out that everybody has something like that, and it's easier shared, even if never talked about. So give up and join the party!"

Morgan grinned as he watched the open emotions chase over his young friend's face. For the first time he was grateful his secret had come out. Now he could help Reid through the aftermath. And he was correct, they each had their demons, and eventually, they dealt with each as a team. It just bound them closer together.

Reid finally shook his head, as if to clear it. "Okay," he said, slapping his knees, "party."

Morgan joined him as they got up and made their way over to the celebrating group, and had glasses of cheap wine thrust on them by Prentiss. He's push the issue of Reid's father someday, but Hotch was right, now was not the time. Now was the time to be glad that they were safe, and that once more, they'd caught a bad guy, even if it was by default and not even close to what they'd expected, and that they hadn't actually been in danger at all.

CMCMCMCMCM

Moving day. The whole team was present that Saturday, in grubby jeans and old sweatshirts, clearing the rented storage unit of the new furniture and household items and unloading them into the new apartment. It was a day of celebration.

The last few weeks had been weeks of mourning. Memorial services for Reid's friends who had perished in the fire, interviews with the police regarding the Warner's and their meth lab. Reid still couldn't believe that. And the fact that he'd missed it. JJ had commented that he was never home to know, and that may be one other reason that they'd taken that apartment, in addition to its access to the basement. After all, it was common knowledge in the building that Reid was an FBI agent, and gone a lot. The couple may have seen it as amusing to have the lab right there under his nose, for all they knew.

A new building had been located. The owner of the old building had owned another a block or so away, with a similar style, and had offered vacant units to those displaced. So Reid's neighbors were still his neighbors, and the originals still just a block away. And this unit was still on the corner, but on the top floor this time, so he wouldn't have noises above him. An improvement over the old place. All in all, things were looking up.

JJ, Prentiss and Garcia had had a wonderful time furnishing his new apartment. And even Reid had had to admit that they'd done well. Everything they got was tasteful enough for JJ and Prentiss, eclectic enough for Garcia, and comfortable enough for him. It seemed that the three had learned a lot from clothes shopping with him. Except . . . there was Prentiss trying to sneak something in. Something that looked a lot like that piece of modern art she loved, and he'd hated. Even with Lila Archer's help (and Gideon's) he still didn't get modern art. Dashing up the steps, he chased after her, even as she hustled furtively through the doorway.

Rossi grinned from his vantage point with Hotch and Morgan as they peered into the truck to see what was next. Both Hotch and Morgan turned to see what he was so amused by.

Morgan laughed out loud. "Good luck with that, Reid, my man, you'll never win."

"Nope," Rossi agreed. "It took me three wives to learn that."

"At least you could divorce them," Hotch pointed out, grinning as well.

Changing the subject, Rossi commented seriously, "Getting back to normal?"

Morgan nodded. He'd talked to Reid several times, and had attended all the memorial services with him, accompanied to each by another member or two of the team – depending on who was available. Rossi and Morgan had both gone with him when he'd needed to go give his deposition in Las Vegas (and also made sure he visited his mother – which, surprisingly, had been especially healing for Reid). "I think so. At least, normal for Reid. He processes things differently."

"Ya think?" Rossi said wryly, the grin on his face taking away the sting.

"He'll get there," Hotch said seriously. They all knew what he was talking about. Foyet had taken a lot from Hotch, and the team had supported him through the turmoil. They'd support Reid as well.

"Yep," Morgan agreed, as he stepped up to move the love seat out of the truck. "And we'll help," he said, echoing Hotch's thoughts.

"Amen, " Rossi agreed, stepping forward to help.

~_finis_~


End file.
